The Truth Behind Lies
by Wendy the Time Lady moustache
Summary: This is a Sam and OC fanfic I have made like my Hiddles fanfic, I hope to get more feedback on this one than the other, considering its length and the show's high acclaim. I do hope for feedback based on constructive criticism or compliments, never hurts anyway. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.
1. Chapter 1: The Reunion

Charlotte Cast, long time friend to the Winchesters and Hunter of the Supernatural, walked the damp and deserted streets of Palo Alto, a town near Stanford Law where one of the Winchester Brothers: Sam Winchester, resided. He lived now in a sort of apartment with his girlfriend: Jessica Moore. Charlotte saw Dean's black Chevrolet Impala of 1967 parked right out in front of the apartment complex where Sam lived with Jessica.

Charlotte sighed, disappointed that she had arrived too late to present the dilemma to Sam herself. They were all friends, or used to be. They had kept their distances after Sam had run away to attend Stanford Law against John Winchester's, the brothers' father, wishes. This practically disowned Sam from the family. The reason as to why Sam was disowned was due to the fact that John found it an immense betrayal to the family that Sam stopped the search for the 'thing' that killed the Winchesters' mother oh-so long ago.

Knowing the Impala inside and out (this is not a figure of speech in this context and in Charlotte's case) Charlotte invited herself to lounge along the hood of the Impala, her back against the front window's of the masterpiece of a car, waiting for Dean to finish persuading Sam to get back in the game, or at least help with their current search.

As the curly blonde closed her eyes and perked her ears for the slightest sound, her mind travelled back through her memories to the time she met the Winchesters and found out about the 'Family Business' of 'hunting things that go bump in the night' as Dean put it. She remembered growing up in Lawrence, Kansas, constantly hearing talk of the reappearing Winchester sons and father. Personally, Charlotte never thought anything wrong with them when she occasionally saw them, growing up, despite the sons' anti-social father.

A few ways away, Charlotte's consciousness of what was happening in present tense grabbed her back from her memories, hearing the apartment complex's front door squeak open. Immediately, Charlotte sat up and opened her fierce grey eyes.

The brothers stopped dead in their tracks when they saw their old friend and Charlotte had to quite frankly, restrain from laughing, but permitted herself to roll her eyes. When Sam had left for college, Charlotte had been so torn she had lead Dean, Sam, John, and even herself at times, to believe she was leaving out of grief of Sam's departure. 2005 and you would not believe how much of a 90 degree that took. John had contacted her afterwards when she found a motel to stay at. John, being the leader of the quartet, found it his responsibility to convince Charlotte to at least look over Sam and Dean when they were 'on their own'. Since, Charlotte had been keeping Dean and Sam's trail clear from demons, vengeful spirits, and other nasties. And the brothers never even knew.

With her sharp eyes, Charlotte saw both Sam's puppy dog dark green eyes go wide and Dean's crystalline green eyes go wide, though not as wide as his younger brother's.

"Ch-Charlie?" Sam asked faintly. Charlotte casually slid off the car, dismissing the wide-eyed looks of disbelief. She slung her canvas beige backpack across one of her shoulders with a shrug and walked over to the brothers.

"Hello, boys."


	2. Chapter 2: The Hunt Begins

She snidely smiled, practically sarcastically, which was a signature of Charlotte's playful behavior with the boys. She pecked their cheeks, as was and still is her customary greeting towards her favorite people in the world.

"Hey." Dean replied cautiously, just as Sam greeted her with the same words but in a warmer tone, having truly missed Charlotte despite a lingering question waving to him in the back of his mind. Just as the idea was at the back of Sam's head, the question was full frontal along with many others in Dean's mind. It didn't make sense to him, and he needed answers now. Sam was a bit more passive, not seeming to care as long as Charlotte was there with him and Dean.

Charlotte pulled back from them, one hand on her hip as she addressed the situation already addressed briefly to Sam. Seeing the mystery looks on their faces, especially Dean's, she assumed it to be the question of where she had been this whole time. "So, no questions what so ever yet, that goes for both of you." She gave the brothers a warning flash of her grey eyes as she continued, "Dad's been missing. Haven't gotten a text from him in too long. Now that either means that his age finally caught up to him or he's in serious shit."

"A text? Dad doesn't text." Dean crossed his arms, looking at Charlotte with suspicion, an eyebrow raised and assuming a confronted stance.

"Not to you, he doesn't." Charlotte replied wittily. Dean strengthened his affronted stance and cleared his throat as Sam gained a small upturn on one corner of his lips, creating a discreet smirk with a roll of his eyes due to Charlotte's remark. Dean and Charlotte always seemed to enjoy enraging each other as much as they could despite that by the end of the day, they'd still love each other to pieces.

After Dean cleared his throat, an unknown silence was broken and he spoke up "Dad left me a voicemail, last I heard of him."

"Oh ho ho ho, special you." Charlotte teased him, smirking; she knew Dean wished he were cool enough to get texts from John. Dean caught on to the tease and rolled his eyes, having missed Charlotte deeply the past two years and hearing her tease him again was like resurfacing from underwater after two hours of holding your breath. Dean lifted the hood of the Impala where Charlotte had previously sat and scuttled the smaller items from inside a plastic container with the fake IDs until he found his tape recorder and played the tape. The tape disclosed of a case and the location of it: Jericho, California.


	3. Chapter 3: The Deadline

"So, we've got a location." Sam spoke the obvious, feeling that this was a waste of his time he could be practicing for his college interview.

"You're out of shape, Sammy." Charlotte told him, giving him that look as if to tell him "Don't be stupid with me."Only Uncle Bobby could give that look better than Charlotte. Dean gave Charlotte a look when she said that, suspicious as to how she knew he had run the voice mail through EMF inspection. Dean cleared his throat, feeling that he needed to cover up his suspicion by instinct, though not very well at doing so.

"I ran the tape through the EMF." Dean said shortly, playing back the tape so the back noises where put up front and the EMF filter played through a ghostly woman's voice, almost in sorrow, whispering,

"I can never go home."

"Sounds like a case." Sam said evenly, his shoulders giving a slight shrug.

"A spirit too." Charlotte said with excitement, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. It'd been a while since she had a case with the brothers and it was always better than being alone on a case. Dean smiled at her antics and like Sam did after a slight roll of the eyes and spoke

"One condition."

The other two looked at him expectantly, awaiting his condition. "I have to get back by Monday." He explained generally. Charlotte sighed, she knew it had been wishful thinking to think that Sam would resume hunting regularly with them. Nonetheless, in two days she'd be stuck with Dean, tending to their awkward explanations.

"Why?" Dean asked, an eyebrow raised as he turned his head to get a better look at Sam and whether his posture would suggest he was lying through an excuse or if he was actually needed back here on Monday.

"Interview." Sam replied, half wanting it to be important, for his big brother to be impressed, half of him screaming for him to shut up and make the less of the news as possible in fear it would break an argument out of his brother and him. But, in truth, Sam had gotten such a high score on his LSAT; he got a full ride at Stanford Law, all but requiring an interview. Both Charlotte and Dean gave a shrug and said in harmony,

"Skip it." Assuming it was a job interview, also knowing that Sam had the skill, brains, and grades to get a big and better job than the one that was probably offered to him. Sam rolled his eyes and replied, assuming the front of being in terms with his future, but still impressed with himself, hoping his brother and dearest friend would assume the front he had.

"It's a college interview, and it's my whole life on a plate."


	4. Chapter 4: The Green Monster

Charlotte's eyebrows raised, impressed. She could have gone to college, far past Stanford, but good for him. In truth, Charlotte wished she didn't have to drag Sam back into this death game. She wanted Sam to go so much farther in life than hunting demonic sons of bitches. He could do such greater things with such greater repayment. But, this case was insolvable without him. They needed him; Dean and Charlotte, they needed Sam. Even though they knew it would twist the life he managed to make for himself go topsy-turvy. And it was clear that Charlotte envied Sam for having had a normal life, even if it was for two years. Not only, but, she envied him for having the confidence that the person he loved was in no danger at all, whereas every waking moment of Charlie's life was spent worrying and sweating about whether or not Sam needed her help while she had been helping Dean, or even while she was helping Sam himself, whether he was doing fine, mentally. She wanted the best for him, even if it meant she had to be his secret sniper. Dean clearly looked as impressed as Charlotte, an upraise in his face and a smile-like resemblance bearing his lips, threatening to spill over. Sam made his signature grunt of 'not impressed' or 'being clever' expression. He went to pack his bags upstairs and Charlotte turned to Dean with an innocent grin on his face. "Weird seeing you here." Dean started, dropping his impressed expression and turning back to a challenged faced at the presence of the long-gone and moved-on Charlotte.

"Yeah, I guess." She replied with a swift look back up to Sam's window, where Jessica seemed to be talking to Sam. A small smile tugged at Charlie's rather thin lips, having the selfish pleasure of having Sam to herself for two days. Despite this green envy that bubbled inside her, she couldn't help but be exuberant that Sam had found love and life after certain damnination to a life full of pain and death. At least he was happy, at least for now. It was evident Sam would not come back to Palo Alto in the same way after this weekend, whether it be by one cause or another. Charlotte turned her head back to the pavement and gravel of the road when Sam came out with his bag.


	5. Chapter 5: The Tricky Little Charlie

Once Sam got his bag in the trunk and Dean got in the driver's seat of his most beloved belonging, Charlotte caught Sam's attention "Hey Sam." She called out from across the car, her head and a majority of her chest was sticking out from the top of the car like Sam's torso up to his head.

"Yeah?" He asked with a raised eyebrows and a slightly amused face, always happy to communicate with Charlotte.

"Happy Halloween." She smiled; tossing him a small bag of candy corn she snatched off a child's brimming, plastic, orange jack-o-lantern container of candy. Initially, Charlotte tossed the candy to it out of the benevolence of her heart, but all in all, she wanted to test his reflexes, to which he didn't disappoint. Sam caught the plastic sack of festive candies with a sideways smile.

"Thanks Charlie." Sam replied, feeling warmer about his reunited family already. If Sam thought this trip would be softened by a bit of colored sugar, he was in for a gigantic disappointment. Once Sam fell slumped asleep in the shotgun seat of the car (which, this time, Charlotte did let him take the spot out of the benevolence in her heart, though only because he was a noob) Dean cleared his throat, breaking the silence only slightly occupied by the hum and drum of the old engine.

"Charlotte." Dean addressed her fairly sternly, and Charlotte noticed as he had used her actual name, not Princess Bubbles (Long story short, crazy shit happens in Florida) or Charlie.

"Dean?" She replied quietly, not wanting to awaken Sam, as she knew he required more rest, and Dean knew she was right to keep their voices low.

"How did you know?" He questioned, eyes glued to the road as streetlamps dimly illuminated their features and the wet sleek of the car at night in soft flashes.

"Know what?" She replied, playing dumb to see if she could escape this one. Had she let a detail slip?

"That I ran the tape through EMF." Dean rolled his eyes, looking out his side window for an instance.

"What makes you think I didn't assume you were just being logical?" She asked with an upturn at one corner of her lips, humored.

"Because you, of all people, don't blindly assume that I, of all people, was using my head!" He projected his voice and raised his shoulders stiffly as he became more frustrated with her.

"You really want to know?" She challenged him, raising a brow.

"Yes!" He exclaimed

"A unicorn told me."


	6. Chapter 6: The Inklings

Holding back a burst of giggles, Dean sighed but persisted "Charlotte." He managed her attention back with a clearing of his throat and she nodded and said

"Fine, fine." With a smile as she then asked him "Did you really think you'd be that good of a hunter on your own? Honestly, didn't it seem too easy?" She asked rhetorically as she narrowed her eyes to look at him and see if he'd followed. Dean nodded, not wanting to take his anger out on her while Sam was enjoying some sleep time he obviously hadn't had what with Jess and studying. Charlotte sighed and leaned her head against the window she sat nearest to, the tension building up so greatly she decided to pretend to drift to sleep. She would have to pretend, as, in truth, Charlie hadn't slept since Sam left 2 years ago and she felt fine. What disturbed her so was the fact that she should be dead or insane by now, but she felt perfectly alive and alert constantly, non-stop. She closed her eyes and let the dim streetlight illuminate her features gently. Sam was awake, the whole time, listening in, he sneaked a peak at Charlotte and what he saw scared him practically half to hell. He saw her 'sleeping' but she looked genuinely dead, not even sleeping. Hell, was she even breathing? But he saw her flicker her eyes open briefly and his stress was immediately relieved and he drifted off for real, now.


	7. Chapter 7: The Recognition

When Charlotte opened her eyes, the light of day shown softly on her soft, paling features, she found they were stopped at an old, wooden convenience store with Dean gone and Sam pretending to be asleep.

Charlotte smiled, finding a rubber band; she took straight aim at Sam's ear, and flicking it at the tip of his ear. Sam went into a spasm as his ear felt stung out of nowhere and his eyes flickered open to see Charlotte laughing her ass off.

"Ha ha ha, very funny." Sam replied dryly to her fit of laughter but could not help to laugh just as well after awhile of hearing her own adorable laugh. After their laughter died down, Sam continued smiling at Charlotte and then cleared his throat. Charlotte looked back up at the man who took her seat with pupils that widened at the sight of him. "Charlie, I want to thank you for sticking your neck out for me. I'm not mad that you looked after Dean and me. Dean may be a bit mad but I just want you to know that I'm extremely grateful." Sam leveled with her and Charlotte, for a second, really saw a happy Sam, not a broken and abandoned Sam. Happy Sam. She wondered why he was so happy for a moment. She had only done what was logical and helpful, hell, she even saw a slight tear building up in one of his deep green eyes. But why? Sam wasn't sentimental if he could help it. That's what made Sam, Sam. When was the last time she saw him like this? Why did Sam ever cry? It wasn't natural to Charlie and the look she gave him was not that of someone about to reply humbly to his thanks, but one questioning why he was thanking her like so. Before Charlotte could process these words and think them through, Dean came back with a soda and jerky sticks as he settled back into his driver's seat.

He looked back at Charlotte and asked "Breakfast?" to which she declined with a simple shake of her head. Dean seemed aggravated that she declined his offer and made a slightly frustrated "Nyah." And threw the jerky stick at her face, which it bounded off, as she predicted it would. But it didn't seem that Dean had predicted the same by his expression, though he quickly turned back around. Charlotte blinked a few times as she asked herself: What was that all about?


	8. Chapter 8: The Time In Which We Spend

As Dean settled back into the car, Sam filed through a cardboard box and huffed to himself. "What?" Dean asked, irritated by Sam's rejection of the contents of the old cardboard box.

"I swear, man, you've got to update your cassette tape collection." Sam shook his head with a palpable smile.

"Why?" Dean asked, not seeing the problem as Charlotte sat in the back, lounging as the boys spoke. It was as if Sam had expected Dean to change, silly Sam.

"Well, for one: they're cassette tapes. And two: Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." Sam rolled his eyes, previewing a cassette tape in his hands to Charlotte and Dean, possibly a Motorhead, as Charlotte originally thought, as it seemed recently used, but Charlotte squinted quickly to see the writing and, written in Dean's messy scrawl 'Charlotte's tunes' was written across a paper sticker tab. Only Sam seemed to be the only one not to notice as Dean gave a quick look back to Charlie. It was evident now that Dean was mad at her because he thought something worse had happened. She remembered the look on his face that he had when he first laid eyes on her last night, the look that longed to hold her, because he'd thought he'd never see her again But he was hesitant, so it never crossed Charlotte's mind that may have been the case. But why would he think so harshly of her disappearance? The question ran through Charlotte's mind with an idea that began to formulate to answer her question as Dean spoke to his brother's with the obvious smirk "House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

Sam shook his head and said, "You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It's Sam, okay?" the music of AC/DC's Back In Black starts playing as Dean had picked the cassette out of the box and put the mixed tape of Charlotte's back in the box. As Sam spoke, the music was already blaring throughout the 38-year-old badass car.

"Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." Dean teased his brother as he called over the music. Charlotte, in her corner of the car, lying along the vinyl seats, began air-guitaring as she smirked to Dean's constantly clever remarks. His comment among the house rule would be fair if it were that anyone else was allowed to drive. Charlotte remembered her Harley she had to ditch at Uncle Bobby's run down garage so it wouldn't be so obvious that she was spying for both brothers, but damn, she missed that fine piece of mechanics. The black, smooth curve where the gas was held, the shining silver exhaust pipe, every single perfect curve of her old, black 1987 Harley Davidson Sportster.

She sighed as she listened to the music, still playing her air guitar, they parked in front of the bridge where Troy Squire's, a high school boy, car was found last night without the driver, abandoned without any trace of Troy, as if he'd vanished. Dean shuffled through his plastic Tupperware of fake IDs and badges, handing Charlotte one of her old ones and Sam as well as he got her own. Dean had kept a lot since Charlotte and Sam were gone; all considering it was dead weight to him once they left. Charlotte walked up to the sheriff, showing her district ID badge. "Morning, Sheriff, I'm Detective Strade. These are my partners Detective Don and Detective Eirson." She pointed absently to the brothers behind her, her authoritative walk and stance leading to the conclusion on the sheriff's face that Charlotte now spoke smoothly and easily "We're from District. So what's the case?" The sheriff shook his head and said,

"Troy Squire, eighteen years old, this is his car. Found without sight of the driver and no traces left. None." The sheriff reported to the so-called detectives.

"Well, that's the exact kind of crap police work we'd expect from you people." Dean replied with a smirk on the other side of the car, a smirk playing on his lips until Sam stepped on his foot. Sam gave an apologetic smile to the sheriff who nodded, looking back to the deputy with a look that obviously meant 'Get a load of these hotshots.'

"Thank you for your time, sheriff." Charlotte smiled, a smile that was more of her lips puckered back as if someone had dared her to swallow a lemon and she had to smile through. She tilted her head back as she caught that actual detectives were coming on to the scene out of the corner of her grey eyes. Sam got the memo, but Dean didn't, as he was busy smirking at the sheriff, dumbass. Charlotte sighed as she paced to Dean, pulling him by the ear back to the car. Sam smirked as he watched Charlie pull his older brother to the Impala. The detectives (the real ones) passed them and Dean greeted them, as if he wasn't being enough of a smartass. Sam got in the back this time, leaving Charlie to shotgun. Charlotte groaned as she saw the detectives talking to the sheriff and the sheriff look back at her in the car. "Drive, you moron, drive." She sighed, annoyed that Dean had been so sloppy.


	9. Chapter 9: In Which We Resume Our Norm

Dean did as he was told and went to the motel parking lot specified in the voicemail left by John. "So what now?" Dean asked impatiently, staring back at Sam as he rubbed his ear gingerly, still.

"The sheriff was talking to his officer, I think the deputy, about the deputy's daughter, Amy. She was supposedly putting up posters all over town to help find this Troy guy. So let's take a walk around, see if we can find Amy." Charlie informed them as she nodded, looking back between Sam and Dean with assertion in her eyes. "Come on, case isn't gonna solve itself, let's roll!" She nudged her head outside the window as if to mention they must get out of the car now or face the Wrath Of Charlie. Sam rolled his eyes and got out, as did Dean and Charlie rounding them up to the blazing trio they were. She managed to walk steadily in front of them and strode into town with the brothers flanking her.

Walking downtown the small town, they walked past a park, mothers and fathers, children and lovers walking about their, talking and playing. They were happy. They were happy because of them, because of The Winchesters and Cast. Charlotte liked to think so, at least. It made this whole life worth really living knowing by sacrificing her happiness and life, she was making others happy so they could live another day. Sam seemed to notice not what she looked at but how she looked at the scenes around them. He couldn't appreciate the job as much as Charlie since he had promised himself that happy-no, maybe not happy-but safe life. Charlotte would make sure of it, just like she made sure everyone else was happy. No, safe. As they walked, they reached a movie theater that seemed to have been closed for years, posters of battle of the bands, missing pets, help wanted ads and other normal town happenings were clustered together on the old brick walls of the theater. Charlotte was taken back to the time she tried to teach Sam to play soccer in their rare free time when he was 14 and later took him to see a movie, what was it again? She couldn't even remember. Maybe a Star Wars movie. All she remembered was she had a great time. As Charlotte reminisced, Dean tapped the shoulder of a girl who walked with a possible friend, both dressed in the same dark fashion, it was only logical to assume they were friends, not to mention they were putting up the same posters with a teenage boy's face that read in bold letters the teenager was missing named 'Troy Squire'. Dean tapped the shoulder of the smaller of the women and she looked up to Dean with a slight startling. "Hi. Can I help you?" She asked, noticing the other two now behind Dean.

Who was about to speak smoothly, a natural and trained liar, had it not been for Charlotte who zoned back in, asking "Amy Hein?" Having heard the deputy and sheriff talking about an Amy, mostly to the deputy, who's last name was Hein. It all made sense if the boys had observed instead of just looked. Dean and Sam were still a bit taken aback at Charlotte's acute sense of inquiry, just getting back into the hunting groove.

Amy looked precautious around the three adults and asked Charlotte "Yes?" to which Charlie gave Dean the floor, mentally.

"Hi, Amy. We're relatives of Troy's." Dean spoke with a smile and Amy gave a slight, practically unnoticeable doubting look at Charlotte, who had blonde curls and grey eyes, nothing like either of the brothers or Troy. Dean quickly noticed this and pointed back his thumb to Sam and Charlie, always wanting to poke a stick into their awkward tension and 'too close to be just friends' friendship "Love birds." Dean smirked and since Dean said it, they had to go along with it, Sam and Charlotte. They both had looks of awkwardness but pulled up a small smile and a slight nod, especially Charlie, who had to convince Amy. She'd get Dean for it later. Yes, her revenge plot was already bubbling inside her and it involved her cassette tape. He'd regret the day he made that thing.


	10. Chapter 10: Our Little Antics

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Amy asked, confused. So, Troy must have talked about his family if she asked who they were within the range of the Squire family tree.

"Me and my brother here:" Charlotte winced unnoticeably at Dean's improper grammar. His fault if he didn't care about the proper use of the English language. "We're his uncles. Uncle Dean and Sam? You wouldn't know about Charlie," Dean leaned in and whispered "new addition." He finished off his explanation with a wink. Dean was really pushing it now. Was he still pissed about Charlotte's espionage extraordinaire? The twat.

"Amy," Sam cleared his throat "Would you mind if we asked you a few questions about Troy?" Sam actually looked concerned, as if a family member of his actually just went missing, which was really true, but Sam didn't seem to consider John as his father. Charlotte nodded and said "Yeah, there's a coffee shop down the road, if you'd like." Charlotte indicated to Amy and her scene friend and they agreed.

Once they arrived at the café and got their seats, Amy's friend, Jennifer, slid down to the window seat closest to the entrance door with Amy sliding in next to her. Dean and Sam crammed in the other one, and since there was room on the row with the other girls, Charlotte slid in farthest from the window next to Amy with Dean in front of her, Sam in front of Jennifer. "So, what do you think happened?" Charlotte asked cautiously as she knew how badly those questions might be taken, turning as she spoke to the teenager next to her. In the meantime, Dean ordered coffees all around. It really didn't matter if they drank it or not, it wasn't technically their money they were wasting.

Amy sighed and looked to Charlie "Honestly? I really don't know. The last I personally heard from Troy he was on the phone, driving home after a party last night on Halloween." She reminded them of the date. Charlotte shared a look with Sam. If whatever it was that took Troy had actually taken him and not morphed into him, he was taken last night.

Then Sam asked, "Did he sound strange? Not like himself?"

Amy looked perturbed at the question "What? Like he was drunk?"

"Generically strange. Like, his tone, anything." Sam clarified; Jennifer smirked at how her friend pretended to be disturbed by the mention of alcohol abuse.

Amy shook her head "No, he just sounded a bit tired. Understandable, really." Amy shrugged nonchalantly.

"Why's that?" Dean asked, already 'paying' for the coffees no one had noticed had arrived. They didn't seem of good quality either.

"Well, it was late." Amy replied as if it was obvious.

"Around what time would you say?" Sam asked, intrigued. Maybe it was a cursed omen that occurred at a specific time on a specific date.

"I don't know, around half after midnight?" Amy seemed to guess to the best of her ability.

"Do you think he was taken by," Charlotte paused slightly in thought "maybe a hitchhiker?" Charlotte went through the options. Maybe a ghoul had picked him off for a late night snack.

"I really don't know." Amy sighed in distress, taking her spoon and nervously twirling it in her coffee. Jennifer huffed as if it seemed obvious what the real solution was. The hunters shared a quick gaze. Could it be that Jennifer was a witch? She had the stereotypical look to be involving herself in witchcraft.

"What?" Dean asked curiously.

"Well, there's this kind of legend around here." Jennifer began in her semi-raspy voice. The trio of hunters looked intrigued and leaned in. Typically speaking, an urban community legend was most likely the cause of any misfortune in the town. Unless it was complete bullshit. Like Sasquatch. Seeing as the three were intrigued, Jennifer continued, "There's this legend that the ghost of this woman was killed on the bridge."

"The same bridge Troy's car was found?" Dean asked impatiently.

Jennifer nodded and continued, "They say her ghost still haunts Centennial road." She spoke nonchalantly as she actually dared to take a sip out of the god-awful coffee, brave soul. Jennifer didn't seem to mind or she didn't want to be rude since 'Uncle Dean' had paid their coffees. Charlotte seemed intrigued. So this legend wasn't complete BS after all. A spirit is a definite possibility. Dean sighed and closed off their meeting "Well, ladies, thank you very much. We hope Troy comes back as soon as possible." Dean nodded as he got up, always the gentleman cowboy. Charlotte slid off the booth's bench and Sam joined her as they walked out and regrouped.

"So where to next?" Dean asked, clearly becoming codependent on his little brother and Princess Bubbles.

"Library's a good place to start." Charlotte shrugged, seeing as Sam didn't bother bringing his laptop with him and there wasn't Wi-Fi anywhere else she could think of at the moment. Sam nodded and they headed there.

Once they got to the library, Dean took up the computer, beating Sam in a speed-walk match. Charlotte sighed and rolled her eyes, taking up the bookshelves for any source of either entertainment or actual work, considering Dean was hording the only computer there. Charlotte looked on at the scene as Dean typed in the most inaccurate words in the search bar on the town website, coming back each time with no results whatsoever. She heard Sam mutter as he pushed Dean away in his wheeled office chair. "What if it wasn't murder…?" Sam typed in suicide instead of murder and a result popped up. Seeing it so, Charlotte walked over, her hands tracing a table with a reflective surface, cold to the touch, it almost seemed to burn her and she quickly pulled her fingers away. She pulled up a wooden chair behind the brothers and asked, "What did you get?"

"Constance Welsh." Sam spoke quietly, reading over. "Apparently, her two kids were in the bathtub, she left for a minute and they were drowned by then. She then, in all her grief, jumped off the bridge." Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"You think she might have murdered the kids and then killed herself?" She asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the few frequenting the library.

Sam shrugged and said, "I don't know, maybe?"

Charlotte replied with a shrug and stood up. "Well, we could always go now to the bridge, check for EMF." She suggested as Dean and Sam stood up not before closing the window on the computer.

When they reached the bridge, the sun had set. They parked the Impala by the end of the bridge, facing the bridge. Charlotte had already planted her revenge in the cassette mouth of the stereo system. "So, this is where Constance swan dived." Dean nodded, walking about the place, looking off one end of the bridge. Sam turned his head just in time to see the ghost, or echo of Constance Welch, looking into Sam, he felt invaded and targeted. Constance spread her arms out, Sam yelled out "Wait! Stop!" but the white figure had already dived down to the bottom. The three ran for the place where she jumped, but saw no one. Typical ghost traces. All at once, they hear the rev of the engine of the Impala and the sudden sound of Charlotte's favorite song. Dean tilted his head to the side as the car started playing music up loud and turned itself on "The Bangles?" He asked, confused.

"You're concerned about that?" Charlotte asked, a small smile contradicting her wide, panicked eyes. Damn, 'Walk Like An Egyptian' was the best tune to get down on. But, at the moment, they had a problem. As the song played out, the car charged for them. The two boys too tall or bulky to be as lithe as Charlotte jumped off the edge of the bridge. Sam held on, Dean lost his grip and fell in the shallow brook. Charlotte, however, being stealthy and lithe, ran in light step towards the car, jumping on to the hood and running right over it, not leaving a dent. When she turned around to look back at the car, something strange occurred to her: She saw Constance Welch stopping the car, taking the cassette out of the cassette player, looking back, and winking at Charlotte as she left her mixed tape there. Then she went through the door and under the bridge. By then, Sam was watching Charlotte in her petrified state. "Did you see that?" Charlotte asked with wide grey eyes, her wild blonde curls even more of mess.

"See what?" He asked, oblivious.

"She-She was_ in the car_." Charlotte spoke, unbelieving that he didn't see it. "And then she went right under the bridge. Please tell me you saw that!" She yelled at him. Sam had looked between the car and Charlotte just when Constance was in the car and he hadn't seen anything. Charlotte turned on Sam, eyes wide and pleading, "Sam, please, tell me you saw that." She begged, so close to him in proximity.

Sam shook his head, confused "Sorry, no."

Later, Dean had managed to crawl out sopping with mud, head to toe, out of the river without anything broken except, just possibly, his integrity. When they got back to the baby, Dean had a hard time getting in, since he didn't want to "Dirty his baby."

To which Charlotte rolled her eyes, a feeling of subtle unease and suspicion after what happened minutes ago, but just as sassy as she had always spoken, told Dean uselessly "Dean, honestly, she isn't going to mind."

Dean then murmured "It's all right, baby, she doesn't know you like I do." to the car. Charlotte ended up having to push Dean in, to which he bustled about before settling in, making the shotgun seat uninhabitable with river muck. Once Charlotte closed to door and saw what happened when she pushed Dean in, she turned her head, sharing a look with Sam "You want shotgun?" She asked with a bitten back smile by her bottom lip and a slight upheaval of her shoulders. Sam smiled and shook his head. His life for the past two years had really been lacking of Charlie's humor both the boys were already so codependent upon to get through their cynical lives. Instead, Sam opened the door behind the driver's seat and held it open for Charlotte, pretending mockingly to be a gentleman, making an exaggerated wave of his hand to show Charlotte in, where Charlie then curtsied superfluously. Sam chuckled and then said "Come on, get in before I push you in." teasingly. Charlotte smiled and pecked his cheek amicably, patting his other cheek with her hand "Thank you, kind sir." She teased him as she slid in. Sam felt the spot she kissed him when he had closed her door shut. Like a cold shoot of electricity had shot through him. He was used to getting _pecked _on the cheek, but this time she _kissed_ him on the cheek. In his mind, that was two different things entirely. But Charlie seemed to have shrugged it off by the time he slid in next to her. Sam had managed to calm himself by that time as well. His blush had died down and he was cool calm, and collected. In any case, he had Jess waiting back home for him. Home? It didn't really feel like home. All those times he's run away, it just felt like a temporary living situation, which made him think, was Jessica a temporary living partner? Since he could remember, everything but Charlotte and Dean were temporary to him. He shook the thoughts off and focused on the case. Why was Constance Welch killing (as seemed unanimously agreed that what happened was not a simple disappearance)?

"Did dad give you a room number for the motel he was staying at?" Charlotte asked as Dean drove, occasionally wiping the silt from his eyes.

"Yeah, room 12A." he replied with a sigh, trying to drive as straight as he could. That may be the best example of Dean's protectiveness and stubbornness with his car. The car was Dean's baby, and both Sam and Charlotte were sure that even if Dean were to die one day, his ghost would come back before either of them steals a glance at the dashboard. Sam shifted in his seat, Charlotte giving him a questioning glance.

"It's a bit cold in here, isn't it?" Sam replied.

Charlotte nodded with a shrug and said, "Yeah, I guess it kind of is." Not feeling much of a cold draft anywhere, but Sam seemed to be ice-cold. Dean cleared his throat and turned on the heater as they drove, the sun peaking from its hideout from the other end of the world.

"Morning, boys." Charlotte sighed, seeing as when they got to the motel, it was 7AM. They walked out of the car and looked at the door of room 12A. "Sam, would you do the honors?" Charlotte asked, handing him a lock pick, never taking her eyes off the door. Sam took the lock pick and worked his rusty magic. Charlotte, in the meanwhile, had a compromising view of Sam and definitely took the opportunity. She made a face to herself as if to say 'Not bad.' When he opened the door, though she wasn't thinking about his lock picking skills, no sir.

Dean walked in first and nodded to both of them, saying, "I'll go take a shower." With an embarrassed-looking smile, though the other two knew well he wasn't embarrassed. Dean just wanted to seem normal. When Dean had gone and Sam fully stood up to his height, Charlotte told him "Nice." With a smirk coming on as she nonchalantly looked around the room.

"Thanks." Sam replied with a goofy smile, appreciating the fact that Charlotte appreciated the smallest of his skills.

"I wasn't talking about that." Charlotte shook her head as she walked in. Sam stood there for a bit, blinking as he watched Charlotte go in, processing what she just said.

"Oh." Sam spoke with a red pigment filling his cheeks in, the ones on his face, I mean. He walked a bit more awkwardly around now. Charlotte giggled to herself and rolled her eyes.

The walls of the room were scaled with pictures of locals that had gone missing, Troy Squire included. As Charlotte read through the missing papers, she found something in common out of the men that shouldn't be related in any way, shape, or form. "Check this out," She told Sam as they could faintly hear Dean singing 'Walk Like An Egyptian' in the shower, probably dancing along with it because they heard slips and falls ever so often. "All of the men's cars were found on that one bridge near Centennial Road." She told Sam and then asked "But why? What did you get anyway?"

Sam cleared his throat, his eyes having been on a befuddled looking Charlotte who was considered the kitten version of Charlotte, her nose slightly scrunched along with the space in the middle of her eyebrows, yet her eyes widening as she looked for any sign of an idea. "I think he was on to something." Sam said with a sigh as he went over to his side of one wall, jutting off a piece. "Woman In White sound familiar to you?" He asked as he showed her the paper John had noted down.

Charlotte nodded, murmuring that a Woman in White, also known as a Weeping Woman, was the ghost of a woman who killed herself when her husband or boyfriend had cheated on her. As Charlotte muttered, she finally tore her eyes away from the victim's missing sheets and her eyes widening "Oh shit." She spoke softly; looking from Sam to the paper he showed her "You think so?" She asked Sam, a small smile twitching the edges of her lips.

"One way to know for sure." Sam said with a smile. They had to interview Candace Welch's husband.

"I'm in." Charlie smiled.

"So am I." Sam replied, and Dean came, clothes still muddy but it was obvious he tried to rinse them.

He looked between the two and sighed, "How many times does a man have to repeat himself? No chick flick moments."

Sam shook his head, looking down with an enamored smile about Charlotte "Jerk." He told Dean off.

"Bitch." Dean replied with a smile. Things were, seemingly, back to their version of normal at last.


	11. Chapter 11: Always Answer Officials

Charlotte and Sam dressed up formally, Charlotte wearing a button down white shirt with a purple vest and same pencil skirt of the dullish version of the usually vivid color. Charlotte spent an hour or so trying to get every blonde curl into the tightly restricting bun she detested while Dean was fighting with her like an older brother getting ready for a date for sink space. "Dean bug off, this is for the case!" She complained as he had shoved her away from the sink so he could watch himself in the mirror when washing off the muck.

"Sorry Princess Bubbles, -" But Dean never got to finish his sentence, because he was down on the floor with a grunt as soon as Charlotte hooked one of her purple heeled feet to his ankle and pulled back towards her, a simple enough move.

"Don't call me Princess Bubbles." She huffed, finally pinning her hair back successfully and walking back out, Sam waiting for her in the living room centric place. "Let's go." She smiled, a bit of a smudge of lipstick going past the boundaries of her lips, however faint; Sam noticed and wiped it away.

Once she gave him a questionable look, Sam looked away and cleared his throat "Makeup-and-uhm-not-whatever." He spoke shyly, a blush spreading his cheeks. "Actually, Charlie…" He spoke, having noticed something and putting his hand to her forehead "Are you feeling well?" He asked, noticing how far from normal her temperature was.

"Yeah, I feel fine." She nodded, looking back at him with awry suspicion. "Why?" She asked as a light flickered above their heads, stupid old motel.

Sam noticed the light and shook his head, "No, nothing. Just looking out for Princess Bubbles." He gave her a small smirk she replied with a grimace. "Okay, fine, ready to go?" He asked, laughing slightly to himself.

Charlie rolled her eyes and nodded "Yeah, let's go." She headed out first, getting in the car and asked Sam "Got an address?"

"Yeah, but I think I should drive." Sam noted, seeing how he had directions and an address and Charlotte was in the driver's seat and tended to take direct orders from no one.

She sighed and rolled her eyes "Fine. You drive." She got out of the driver's seat and they switched spots so she was in shotgun. "Only because you have directions." She huffed and Sam laughed softly as he started up the engine. Charlotte realized if John had tried to work the case here, he would have talked to Constance Welch's husband too, and three was a bit of a crowd when it came to credibility.

Charlie cleared her throat as Sam looked over at her, worried. "What?" Sam asked.

"Three's a crowd, don't you think?" She asked, Sam understanding. He nodded and Charlotte got out, bidding him "Good luck." With a smile and a wink. When she got out, she saw a police car turn the corner into the parking lot. Charlotte's eyes widened and she made a hand signal to Sam to drive now as she recognized the officer from earlier: the Sherriff. Charlotte went inside to warn Dean, who seemed surprised she came back. "Dean, they're here. We need to move now." She told him, seeing how he was still rather dirty and he probably wouldn't stop until he looked to his standards of flawless. Just as Charlotte warned him, there came a knock at the door.

Charlotte reluctantly opened it and was told to put her hands up and walk to the cop car with Dean in tow behind her. Once the officer got them outside, the Sherriff asked, "Fake ID, fake names, tell me, what is real about you two?"

And with that, Dean looked to Charlotte and asked "Are yours real?" he then looked down at her chest and nodded "Yup." Then turned back to the Sherriff and answered him "Our boobs."


	12. Chapter 12: The Past is Never So

"Should I be insulted?" Charlotte grunted as she was pressed against the police car next to Dean, one of the officers that came along reading their Miranda Rights. When the officer finished Charlotte asked, "If I got laid every time I heard that." And she saw Dean smirk at her little quip. God knows how many times either of them has been arrested and 'died'. Charlotte felt a cold, burning at her wrists and hissed in pain. She looked down behind her at her wrists to see simple handcuffs. Handcuffs burning the detainees? That's a first.

When Dean was cuffed she could hear him say to the officer, "Kinky." But nothing else, not a simple sound of pain and Charlotte felt like her whole body would burn.

Making their way to the station, she whispered to Dean "You have a plan?"

"Working on it." He muttered back.

"What do you mean you're working on it?!" She hissed, clearly pissed that Dean had no plan.

"Well you tell me when you get one." He murmured back "You seem to be able to disappear all the time anyway." Dean sulked

"We are not having this conversation." She whispered back

"Oh yeah? Why not? We've got all the time in the world." He spoke, showing his wrists up to the drivers in the front.

"Dean, I wouldn't have-"

"Don't bullshit me."

"Listen to me-"

"I'm serious, don't do it."

"Winchester, I swear to-"

"Hey, you two cut it out!" The Sheriff warned them, the Sheriff next to him hitting the chained wall that separated the front seats from the back seats. The rest of the ride, Charlotte and Dean glared at each other, the pain from her cuffs dying down that she actually felt stronger, more resistant. Was that weird?

Dean was pissed beyond definition. How dare she try to say she pretended to be dead for his own good and would have told him if he needed to know! He saw her body; he and Sam gave her a proper hunter's funeral. He couldn't imagine how Sammy felt when he saw her alive and kicking the other night. He had been absolutely heartbroken when he found out about that accident.

Charlotte looked over at Dean, a small sympathetic smile his way. Of course he'd feel betrayed in not knowing she was still hunting. She had left them pissed and never coming back. She remembered driving off on her Harley after Sam had left, pissed with Dean's lack of a reaction to his brother's abandonment and Charlotte was still definitely pissed at John, but she had to work with him, though Sammy's voice in the back of her mind kept telling her she wasn't working _with_ John but _for_ him. She remembered part of the accident: The collision, blacking out, waking up in a hospital room with only John, waiting for her, it seemed. He told her to look after the boys. A little space would be healthy for all of them but he wanted them supervised while he was off. Charlotte obeyed without questions and hasn't ever since. She had just wondered when she'd be able to see her beloved Winchester boys again, and she knew now was the right time. She did the right thing.

When they got to the station, Dean and Charlotte were put in different holding/interrogation cells, Charlotte's more official than Dean's. One of the officers, Officer Termaine as his nametag would have it. Termaine sat on the side of the table, facing Charlotte though he uncuffed her and she let out a sigh of relief she didn't know she had held in. Termaine gave a knowing smirk as if he knew anything about her then sighed, placing both hands on either knees, "So, here's the thing, you and your boyfriend-"

"Not my boyfriend."

"I don't care. You've both died on public record multiple times, you've been charged, again, multiple times, for corpse mutilations, armed assaults and the like. Do I even have to mention that you two were found in a room with pictures of the missing men dating back 30 years ago with satanic ritual signs all over the place." He explained what she already knew. Charlotte slouched in her chair as he explained. Charlotte knew this speech like the back of her hand.

"Cut the point, will you?" She asked with a tired sigh.

Termaine gave her a look that bordered a cross between murderous and lustful intent, which kind of creeped her out. What kind of fetish did this guy have? "You and this Dean Winchester are top suspects as to this point."

"You do realize this means I'd have to have been a serial killing fetus, right?" She asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, but we know about John Winchester, and he's an older fellow isn't he?" He replied back as sarcastically "We also know about Jimmy Cast, your father." Charlotte took a deep breath in and looked to the floor. This bastard was trying to push her buttons. Her father, Jimmy Cast, she'd never met and she'd been on that bastard's trail for a long time. He left her mom as soon as he found out Charlotte was on the way. Growing up, she always thought Jimmy had left because he was a drifter asshole. Later, when she met the Winchesters, she realized he left because he was a hunter, and a famous one at that. He killed basically anything fickle, no exceptions. From what she knew, John admired her father but she wanted him to go die. Her mother had become an alcoholic since he left so when…that happened, Eliza, Charlotte's mother was credited for getting her liquor to close to an open flame.


	13. Chapter 13: One Step Farther

Charlotte looked back up at Termaine and spoke "Funny you mention that." Seeing as she was uncuffed and Termaine was close enough, she slumped all the way down in her chair in one swift motion she raised her booted foot up and kicked Termaine straight in the jaw with the force of her rage and plain annoyance at the imbecile. If you should know one thing about Charlotte Marie Cast, it's that you do not mention her father, ever: unless you wish to die a most horrible death. But before she got the chance to finish that, she was detained back in her chair with cuffs by two new officers that afterward, picked Termaine up and whispered to him something of a call they all had to attend to. They all left, leaving Charlotte strapped to the chair by her hands behind her back and her feet to the legs of the chair. Do I even have to mention that they gagged her? As if she was animalistic enough to chew through her binds. She wasn't that desperate: She had been before, but most definitely not now. This was child's play. She'd just have to wait for Dean. Despite being the one looking after him for two years, she still relied on him to bust her out, which he had done sometimes even without knowing. So when Dean entered the room, looking smug as he asked, "You just can't resist picking a fight, can you?"

She replied by rolling her eyes and speaking in a muffled, "Shut up and untie me."

"So demanding." He smirked as he untied her.

Once she was untied she sighed, moving about her wrists to get the blood flowing back "Thank you, Deanie." She teased with his pet name.

"You're welcome, Princess Bubbles." He replied all high and mighty.

"I thought we weren't ever going to bring Miami back up." She grumbled.

"Don't call me Deanie." He replied

"Fine. Don't call me Princess Bubbles." She replied

"Alright, Princess Bubbles." He spoke back smartly, a smirk coming back on to his lips.

Charlotte rolled her eyes and asked, "Did Sam fake a call?"

"Sure did." He nodded with a smile, both sneaking out the police station, Charlotte making sure to get her beige backpack back. When they walked the streets that were already dark, they found a payphone and Dean went in to call Sam. He came back out looking frustrated and determined, but Charlotte knew deep inside, Dean was scared. It wasn't an emotion most could recognize on the infamous Dean Winchester, but it was still there if you knew how to find it. "Sam." He spoke the one word to her while looking at her, she knew immedialtey what was wrong. The Woman in White was going to strike again. It made sense. Sam was committed to Jessica, which made him an easy target. 'Another perk to being a drifter' Charlotte thought to herself as her thoughts whirled worse than a category 5 hurricane, just one of the many other thoughts that spun as she got her weapon of choice out, a standard 9 millimeter hand gun packed with salt rounds. Charlotte got her cellphone out and looked through the GPS signal on Sam's phone. "He's down Centennial. It looks like he's headed towards the old Welsh house." She spoke as she and Dean were sprinting on the deserted road until they found Sam.

Sam was lying completely down in the driver's seat on The Baby and Charlotte could clearly see Candace Welsh digging her long and twisted fingernails into his chest, attempting to kill him. Attempting, because no one can kill Sam Winchester, and definitely not with his big brother and Charlotte around. They both yelled out, though not in sync "Sam!" warning him that they were going to shoot at the bitch. Candace Welsh, with her actual, ghostly and disgusting, monster-like face, laid eyes on Charlotte and hissed out, her many sharp and dirty teeth shone before she really attempted to try to kill Sam. Charlotte was near, and that would ruin her plan to kill Sam for his unfaithfulness. Sam turned his head and saw Charlotte and Dean, as a unit, ready to help, and both opened fire simultaneously. To Dean, Candace Welsh disappeared, but Charlotte saw her, still on top of Sam but weakened. Candace was in her normal Woman in White nasty ass face, seeing to try to breathe and regain power, and when she was getting her energy back from the salt round shots, she seemed to practically glow with energy to Charlotte. Sam drove the car straight into the house recklessly. Charlotte and Dean ran up to the car and Charlotte managed Sam out, Dean keeping watch. As Charlotte got up with Sam, she looked behind Dean and saw a menacing looking Candace Welsh with her normal human face. "Dean! Behind you!"

She called out, her gun out behind Dean as he turned around and asked with a steady yet frantic "Where?!" Charlotte didn't answer and instead shot at Candace, who made herself only visible to the brothers when she had the three of them between her and The Baby. The minute she made herself visible, the boys began to shoot with Charlotte, who was quickly running out of bullets. Candace simply pushed a flipped over chair with her ghostly power against them, sandwiching them between The Baby and the table. They tried getting the table off but did not succeed as Candace was holding it down with her power.

Water began to drip and trickle down the old wooden stairs that Candace resided at the foot of. Charlotte saw two kids walk down the stairs, soaking wet yet clothed. Candace had murdered her children here, it was no wonder their ghost still stuck around, looking back to Sam once the brothers could see the children, and Sam had that look. It was that look that meant he had planned this all out as soon as he realized he was a target. He knew how to get rid of Candace, so he took that chance. He had purposefully ridden down Centennial rode, where all the disappearances seemed to have lead. He had drawn himself out. He knew Charlotte wouldn't go with him to interview Joseph Welsh, the husband of Candace Welsh, because "Three's a crowd." She murmured under her breath, clearly impressed. Sam had rigged it from the jump. Candace was attacked in what seemed to be her children's hugs, where they all seemed to melt in a burning way, down into the ground. As soon as that was over with and Candace Welsh was no more, Dean flipped the table and sighed, wiping his hands, Charlotte still looking at Sam incredulously.

"So, are you two going to make out already or are you just going to silently foreplay each other?" Dean asked, bringing Charlotte out of her gaze.

"Really Dean?" Charlotte asked, Sam having the face to his brother that expressed the same phrase. "Is silently fore playing even a thing?" Charlotte asked as if that was the problem with what he had said and Sam looked back at her with a shake of his head and a smile. Dean gave a small laugh then inspected the damage done to His Baby.

"Oh, and while you two go at each other: if you even leave a scratch on my baby," He looked at both of them in joking fashion of seriousness "I'll kill you."

As Charlotte drove, Dean in the back catching some sleep, as he was the most deprived of it as they had settled, Sam watched the road. After awhile, Charlotte spoke up, knowing Dean was asleep "You could have gotten killed." breaking the silence but strengthening the tension.

"You could have too. It's a dangerous job."

"Yeah, but stringing yourself out like that was stupid. We would have salt and burned her regardless."

"I had an easier way out."

"Since when is easier better?"

"Since you fell off the map. That was easy, right?" Sam asked, looking back at her desperately needing an answer. They had given her a funeral, she had been set aflame, so why was she right in front of him, driving a car. She couldn't be a spirit, could she? They burned her and she handled rock salt and iron. Maybe a shifter? He'd test that theory soon enough, but it made him uneasy that she was at the wheel.

With his words, Charlotte abruptly pulled over the car and asked, "You think it was easy?" Her voice rising, "You think dashing about the country and watching you actually get on with your life and do greater things was easy? You think that watching how well you did without Dean and John and me was easy? How could you possibly think that waking up in the middle of the night because my phone is blowing up with texts saying that one of your professors is possessed was easy? Even when I didn't get a text? If you think any of that was easy you can go right to Hell." She ended up yelling, waking Dean as she left the keys on the front seat and went to the trunk, getting her canvas backpack and slamming the trunk shut as she then told Sam "Well good luck living a normal and _safe_ life without me, Sam." She seethed, walking towards the side of the road that when Sam tried calling back to her, she flipped him off. She couldn't believe Sam. How could he possibly understand all the crap and nightmares that she lived and relived over and over again just so he and Dean could be safe? How could he possibly think any of her sacrifices were easy?


End file.
